


Bruises

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Anal Sex, Biting, Bruises, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 12:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17141429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: They linger.





	Bruises

There were scratches and then there were bruises, and they both had their stories, they both had their stings. Mitsuhide remembered each purpled blotch fondly, and was almost sad when some of his scratches healed, when the scabs fell away without leaving so much as a scar, even though they would undoubtedly be replaced with layers upon layers of new ones within days. 

Today was a bruise day, Nobunaga-kou had seen fit to remove his armor and bare himself just as much as Mitsuhide before hoisting him up and slamming him back against the wall, leaving Mitsuhide to hold himself up by tightly wrapping his legs around his Lord’s waist, laughing breathlessly with delight. Oh yes, oh _yes,_ it was rare that he got to feel the heat of Nobunaga-kou’s flesh against his own, as wonderful as the clawed, cold armor was. No claws, no scars – instead it was left to Nobunaga’s own raw power.

Hands on his hips grabbing at his flesh, pulling – 

_"Ah-!"_

In with one stroke and Mitsuhide almost felt himself tear open – or was that just his own fanciful imagination getting the better of him once again? He knew it would take much more than this to break him, and that Nobunaga would not do any permenant harm. Always war-minded, Mitsuhide was first and foremost, to him, his general and retainer, sexual escapades aside. He was thrusting brutally upwards at the same time that he yanked Mitsuhide down, so that the impact of their bodies colliding, connecting, was all the sweeter, and Mitsuhide raked his nails across Nobunaga’s back, reveling in the hiss he drew from his Lord.

Harder faster please more yes yes and Nobunaga would have made him beg for it usually, but he too was impatient and wouldn’t wait another second to get what he wanted. It was all Mitsuhide could do to hang on for dear life as Nobunaga leaned forwards and _bit_ into his throat. Yes good yes this was a _way_ for him to remember he could look back, Mitsuhide would look over those bruises later and remember exactly what this felt like. Immortalized, until it faded.

“Make it hurt,” he whined, “please,” and Nobunaga complied, his merciful Lord saw it fit to grant him what he had asked for. His hands tightened around Mitsuhide’s hips as his thrusting reached an erratic pace, one that left Mitsuhide laughing giddily, jaw slack and pupils blown, fingers leaving purpled imprints behind, his proof that he was alive. He came with a stifled wail and felt his Lord follow shortly afterwards, his back and shoulders aching and his hips sore. 

Perfect, he thought. It would give him something to remember, something to remind him exactly why he stayed.


End file.
